


The Christmas Delivery That Wouldn't End

by rev_lady_mal



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-23 02:39:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17071919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rev_lady_mal/pseuds/rev_lady_mal





	The Christmas Delivery That Wouldn't End

Another Christmas behind him, a tired but joyful Finland expertly guided his reindeer over the rooftops of the last neighborhood of homes he had to make deliveries to before heading back to his secret hideaway in Lapland. Humming a happy Christmas tune, he almost didn’t hear the soft thudding sound in the back of his sleigh. Turning when he felt a thump on the bench next to his leg, he looked down to see one box sliding from the shifting of the sleigh.

“Ah? Did I miss one? Impossible!” He leaned back and scooped up the festively wrapped package from the floor of the sleigh. “Heavy!” He exclaimed when he almost dropped it. He looked carefully at the label to see whom it belonged to. “… Damn! Not him! Anybody but him!” His mind raced over a million possible solutions; what to do with the present - dump it over a forest, into a lake or the ocean - but in the end, he knew there was only one way to deal with it. With a heavy heart and grim expression etched on his face, he drove his team of reindeer to the last place on Earth he wanted to be.

He could already see the tall figure outdoors kneeling in the snow as he approached from above, scarf billowing around him in the cold winter wind. His water pipe clutched in one hand as he covered his face with the other, tears coming down his face. “I was a good boy this year! I promise! I only tormented Latvia a little …

Finland landed the sleigh behind him and jumped out, he reached for the brightly decorated package inside, walked up to Russia and cleared his throat. “… uhm … Russia? Yeah, hi … there was a bit of a mix-up and … I forgot to drop this off for you. I apologize for the inconvenience this may have caused and … well … here you go.” He held the heavy package out to him.

“You … you didn’t forget me? I was a good boy? My present!” Russia exclaimed, jumping up and taking the heavy box from Finland. “Spasiba!” He sat down in the snow and with the excitement and gusto of an eager little boy, tore into the package, throwing bits of paper and ribbon everywhere. Finally, he pulled out a black vinyl bag rounded on the top, unzipped it and held up a candy apple red bowling ball in the dim winter light. “It’s here! What I’ve always wanted and it’s finally here!” Russia’s eyes gleamed with the child-like wonder that always warmed Finland’s heart when he saw it on children’s faces at Christmas time, but on Russia’s face … he suddenly felt cold, and it wasn’t from standing outside in the snow.

Finland rubbed the back of his neck and laughed nervously. “Well, happy we cleared that up! The reindeer are tired and I need to get them home, they’ve earned a long rest. Enjoy your bowling ball Russia.” He backed away as he said the last part, putting space between him and the tall nation standing there, caressing the smooth surface of the bowling ball with the intensity of an entranced fortuneteller divining the future. Just as he turned to run back to the sleigh, he felt something strong wrap around his arm and swing him back. He looked up into Russia’s overjoyed but puzzled face.

“You’re leaving so soon? But you just got here!”

Finland stared up at him, mouth opening and closing a few times. “Yeah, I know. I really need to be getting back now. Merry Christmas!”

“Nyet!” Russia started with a tone of voice that would allow no argument. “You said your reindeer were tired, yet want to go rushing home right away! Leave them here to rest and come inside.” He smiled and dragged the struggling nation along as he skipped back to his house, opened the door and spun Finland inside. Russia slammed the door shut as Finland spun in circles across the floor and landed roughly in a chair. “La la la la la …” Russia sang to a happy tune as he bounced to the cupboard, pulled out a glass and a bottle of Stolichnaya, and then flopped down in a chair opposite Finland, who by this point could only stare at the tall nation incredulously. “Let me offer you some refreshment.” He insisted as he filled the glass nearly to overflowing with vodka, then sat back and took a long pull directly from the bottle. “Ahhh … that hit the spot, as America likes to say. In fact …” Russia looked at the bottle quizzically, “ I found this bottle in America’s freezer.”

“Oh really,” Finland said as he picked up the glass, frowning when he failed to keep it from sloshing over the side. “Why does he keep it in there?” He managed to get the glass to his lips and took a sip, then almost spit it back out when the taste of pickled herring hit his tongue. He stared at the glass, and then set it on the table. He looked over and saw Russia’s amused eyes smiling intently at him.

Russia snickered as he watched the other nation choke and sputter. “Silly Finland, can’t handle good Russian vodka I see. I don’t know why America keeps vodka in the freezer when the only thing you need to properly store it is this.” He thrust the bottle cap into Finland’s face. Finland started and jerked back as he stared at the cap inches from his nose, then looked up at Russia, who laughed and flung the cap over his shoulder. “Stupid capitalist, what does he know, ah … Ah?” And he took another long drink from the bottle. “Drink up Finland! Can’t let vodka go to waste, but I don’t have to tell you that, do I?”

Finland gave him a weak smile as he picked up the glass and took another long drink, choking again at the hideously strong taste of pickled herring. Across from him, Russia had the red bowling ball in his arms, smiling and caressing it. “ Da, I can’t wait to try you out … in fact, why wait at all?” He leaped from his chair, grabbed Finland and dragged him down a long corridor. Finland worked his shorter legs as fast as he could trying to keep up with Russia, but he found himself half dragged, half flying through the air behind the much bigger nation as he ran with lightning speed through the never-ending hallway until they burst into the largest bowling ally Finland had ever seen. As far as he peered down either side he couldn’t see the end of the enormous room, and although the faint sounds of balls rolling and hitting pins could be heard in the distance, as far as he could tell, they were the only ones there.

Russia once again deposited Finland roughly into a chair behind the table used to keep score. Finland looked down at his feet and blinked a few times when he saw a pair of garishly stitched bowling shoes on his feet. Russia’s boots had also disappeared as he bounced down to the lane in bright red and black bowling shoes and bowled a perfect strike. He jumped up and down, making the floor shake, and then walked over to the ball return, waiting for his ball to appear. “I do enjoy an afternoon on the lanes. You do bowl, right Finland?”

“I, uh …”

“Of course you do! How can anyone not enjoy bowling?” His glowing red ball appeared and he picked it up. “Hmm, what do you think, will this ball need venting?”

“Huh?” Finland asked? Looking at the holes in the ball. “I have no idea.”

“Stick your finger in the thumb hole and tell me if you think it’s too small.” Russia requested, grinning and holding the ball out to him, Finland looked at Russia, then at the holes. “Please? I really want your opinion.”

Finland glowered at Russia. Becoming annoyed, he reached out and stuck his considerably smaller thumb into the thumb hole of the bowling ball. “Feels fine to me,” he muttered. Twirling his thumb around inside the hole, he thought, “Maybe the problem is your sausage-like fingers.”

Russia beamed at him. “Really Finland, you think it’s alright? Spasiba!” And before Finland could remove his own thumb, Russia jammed his fingers into the holes and approached the lane once again, effortlessly dragging the other nation still attached to the ball.

“Hey! Wait! My thumb is still in there Russia, let me go!” He struggled in vain as he painfully tried to yank his thumb out of the bowling ball, he looked up at Russia’s grinning profile, the glint in the other nation’s eye made his blood run cold with terror.

With perfect form, Russia released the ball, but instead of rolling on the boards, it flew through the air, Finland sailing behind it with his thumb still stuck in the hole. He could only watch in horror as they hurtled closer to the pins. “Ooof!” He grunted when the ball finally did land on the floor but lost no momentum as they slid faster toward the pins, which at that moment turned into ten dancing herring standing on end and flapping their fins in the air. “Ohyaaa!” Finland’s eyes grew wide and he screamed right before the ball hit the fish. He felt a hand grab onto the collar of his Santa cape and haul him back into the bench on the sleigh. Startled, Finland looked down at his hands on the reins, guiding the reindeer over fields in the moonlight. He looked over and Russia sat next to him, grinning, his long scarf flapping in the cold wind behind him.

“Be careful Finland, you don’t want them to get away from you.” He said as he rested his long arm on the bench behind Finland’s shoulders. “This is a very pleasant way to travel, I must admit.” Dim light lit Russia’s smiling face as the first glowing of dawn could be seen on the horizon. Finland began to relax a bit and he exhaled as he looked around, wondering where he was and whether there was an appropriate spot to touch the sleigh down and get the hell away from Russia as soon as possible. It was then that they approached a large field of sunflowers. Russia’s eyes grew wide, and his smile widened to a look of joy. “Could it be … it is? A field of sunflowers! Finland we need to land! Raise the flaps! Put down the landing gear!” He punctuated each statement by slapping Finland’s shoulder, causing his Santa hat to fall forward on his face and cover his eyes. He sputtered and pushed the hat back so he could see where he was going. Swearing under his breath, Finland brought the sleigh down next to the field and they came to a rough, grinding stop, as they were gliding over dirt and rocks, and not snow.

Finland once again pushed the hat back and righted himself, fuming as he watched Russia bound with the grace of a gazelle toward the field of nodding yellow flowers. He leaped into the air, put his palms together and assumed the pose of a diver as he went headfirst and disappeared into the middle of the stand of tall blooms, bits of leaf and petals flying into the air, the only evidence that the tall country had disappeared within the field. Finland sat and watched for a few minutes, muttering choice words under his breath about the tall and obviously insane nation but he heard no sound nor saw any movement for some time. He picked up the reigns and was about to give the reindeer the signal to leave when Russia’s head popped up over the edge of the sunflowers, a few stray petals stuck in his hair. He beamed at Finland and shouted, “Come on, what are you waiting for? Isn’t this wonderful?” He motioned with his arm for Finland to join him in the field of sunflowers.

His shoulders sagged, and he sighed heavily as he jumped out of the sleigh and slowly made his way into the field. Having no idea where the big idiot was, he walked in the direction he thought he saw him last, plodding along as if walking to his execution. Finland was getting angrier and hotter by the second as the sun climbed and the heat grew in the field when he felt large hands wrap around his ankles and he was pulled down to the ground.

“Ow!” Finland exclaimed when his chin hit a rock. He rolled over in the dirt and saw Russia directly above him looking down and grinning with an eerie gaze of rapture.

“Silly Finland, your Ded Moroz suit is all dirty now. That’s what you get for rolling in the dirt!” Russia chuckled at his own joke and sat up, grinning at the other country’s red, flustered face. “Your cheeks match your clothes.”

“Look Russia, you have your present now, and I hate to have to go but … I really have to go. I’m exhausted and hot and dirty.” He slapped at the dust covering his Santa suit irritably, “This is where I say Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.” He tried to sit up and get to his feet, but Russia’s hands shot out and grabbed his forearms, pinning him down to the ground.

“Nyet Finland, I think not. There are so many things I want us to do together, and I know once you leave you won’t come back. Why don’t you visit me more often?”

Finland’s hollow eyes, rimmed with dark circles stared up at Russia. The other nation’s eyes were bright and gleamed with sincerity, but the lopsidedness of his grin made Finland shie way. “I just want to go home!” he shouted, exasperated and desperate. He struggled to get away from Russia’s iron grip. He felt something flapping against his hand and looked down to see a herring. Finland narrowed his eyes at it in confusion, but the shadow of Russia’s body blocked out the light. Grabbing the fish’s tail with his mitten-covered hand. He glared up at Russia

Russia’s face came down in front of Finland’s so close they were almost touching noses. “What do you say Finland, stay with me and frolic a little longer? In fact, why don’t you come and live with me? That would be fun, wouldn’t it?”

Finland’s eyes flew open with shock. In his confusion, his arm shot up and he smacked the fish as hard as he could across Russia’s face. “W-what did you say?” He shouted.

“Da, come live with me Finland, it will be fun!” Russia smiled, completely unfazed with getting hit in the face by a fish and wiped off the slime and scales with his hand. “We can go bowling every day! You can even wear your cute little Ded Moroz costume and we can drink vodka until it kills us!”

Panic took over in Finland’s head. With a loud, piercing scream he gave Russia his answer: “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO –“

Finland sat up in bed shouting, drenched in sweat and shaking. His panic-filled eyes focused to the darkness in the room until he could make out dim shapes. His panting slowed and he rubbed at his eyes while the horrific images faded from his head. He felt a weight shift next to him and looked over to see Sweden glaring at him in the dark.

“Told y’not t’eat th’pickled h’ring b’fore bed.” He muttered, then rolled over and went back to sleep.


End file.
